Graduation days are supposed to be joyous occasions, so readers who enter the wordless Graduation Day, Piotr Parda’s debut picture book as both author and illustrator, may be surprised to see a bleak, gray cityscape and a school suffering from abandon. Despite the school’s cracks and holes, one young, wide-eyed girl with oversize glasses and dressed in her graduation cap and gown is smiling. She’s still smiling when some ugly bullying classmates, both in character and appearance, laugh, point and shoot a round object at her.

Undeterred, the girl pockets the object and lines up with the rest of the multicultural students. After the obligatory speeches (met with students yawning), tossing of the caps and parental hugs in the parking lot, the girl walks alone down a drab hallway to empty her locker. Once it’s open, readers now see what was shot at her: a seed. Inside the locker is a jar brimming with these same seeds.

Seeds often represent change, and the symbolism is not lost in this context as the girl begins dropping seeds in cracks around the school. Wherever she plants the seeds, sprouts—and eventually, color—burst upward. The sprouts give way to luscious yellow flowers that fill up the school courtyard. A return to the initial city scene now shows a cheery school and yellow flowers spreading beyond its walls. While the messages of bullying, change and peace are clear, the thought-provoking artwork makes this a book to be savored and discussed by readers of all ages.

Rain, like heavy snow, is an inconvenience, delaying our important, grown-up tasks. But for kids, a waterlogged street is an opportunity for an extraordinary day. Author-illustrator Sam Usher throws open the front door to whomever, or whatever, might pass by.

Rain begins with rain—lots of it. Granddad is reluctant to go outside, but Sam knows there are monsters and voyages out in that soaking, reflective world. While their home is warm and cozy, the storm beckons, and our imagination grows wings (or perhaps a rudder).

Usher is a storybook wizard, using simple first-person language to tell a story that resonates with children. He even manages to peg the reasonable, calm voice grown-ups use to speak with kids (and that kids often echo). His illustrations, while unpretentious, are detailed, artistic and colorful; the raindrops are so realistic they could be photographs. Little reader spotting tip: Watch the stuffed animals, who seem to mimic Sam’s moods and occasionally sport seriously bored expressions.

While Rain is a fun read in its own right, it’s also a delightful elbow-in-the-side reminder to look up from our adult routines once in a while. After all, you never know what might float by.

This article was originally published in the April 2017 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

Everyone loves books about bears, mice, kittens and puppies. Other animals barely stand a chance at being popular with young readers. Even hippos, lemurs and wildebeests beat out snails in the favorite animal department.

Up until now, that is. Escargot is a quirky story of a jaunty French snail eager to make the case that snails deserve a shot at being your favorite animal. If you think snails are too slimy, Escargot explains that it’s “not slime . . . more like shimmery trails of . . . shimmery stuff.” If you think snails are too slow, well, that’s only because a French snail likes to relax before enjoying his salad. And if you think snails are too shy, Escargot is eager to demonstrate that he is quite fierce. In fact, his fierce face can scare away a lion, a wild boar—and even a carrot that might sneak into the beautiful salad waiting at the end of the story.

By the time young readers get to that salad, they still might not be ready to rush out to get a pet snail, but they might be persuaded to enjoy some greens—and even carrots. Dashka Slater and Sydney Hanson have conjured a sweet little snail sure to appeal to the preschool set. And adults will certainly savor a story that supports healthy eating—and giggles.

Deborah Hopkinson lives near Portland, Oregon. Her most recent book for young readers is A Letter to My Teacher.

This article was originally published in the April 2017 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

When a book unfolds as beautifully and thoughtfully as Deborah Freedman’s This House, Once, it’s easy to forget the hard work that goes into creating a story, much like we take the objects around us for granted. This House, Once gently opens our eyes to the craftsmanship and histories that surround us daily.

Freedman builds her story as she piece-by-piece builds a house. A small, lyrical statement accompanies each object (door, window, roof) as it is presented as part of the growing house. A beautiful, full-color, wordless spread follows, in which each item returns to where it began: the windows to the sandy beach, the wooden door to the heart of a tree. But Freedman’s is not a story about deforestation. Hers is a world of attentive shaping and art, the act of creating a home to protect and care for those living inside. Curious wild animals prod the mud and frolic on the pages, adding another layer of belonging and contentment.

Freedman’s illustrations are subdued and soft, but with detail that demonstrates her architectural background. Even the snowstorm that engulfs the house seems less a threat than an invitation to sit by the fireplace. Like a craftsperson with her tools, Freedman chooses her words with precision and significance. Her un-rhymed poetry rings with unique metaphors and similes, polished with gentle alliteration. Freedman also endows the house with sentiment and thought, a comforting reminder of where we call home.

The perfect gift for all ages, This House, Once will warm any home, regardless of the season. No fireplace needed.

Spunky Priscilla is obsessed with gorillas. She and her dad read about gorillas every day, but what does Priscilla likes best about the big apes? They always get their way. When Priscilla dons her gorilla pajamas to give a report on her favorite animal, she’s excited. Her report goes well—with one hitch. It’s class photo day and Priscilla insists on staying in her gorilla suit. Her teacher is not pleased.

Mr. Todd insists that having a gorilla in the picture would ruin it for the others. After Priscilla polls her cheering classmates, the teacher invites Priscilla to visit the Thinking Corner—the spot for troublemakers, But she’s no troublemaker! She’s a gorilla. Priscilla’s impish individuality influences the entire class and soon everyone wears animal pajamas to school. The Thinking Corner is overcrowded.

Priscilla’s father reminds her that gorillas survive because they cooperate. Maybe Priscilla should be a skunk instead? After studying all her gorilla photos, she apologizes to Mr. Todd in her own way. On a field trip to the zoo, Mr. Todd encourages Priscilla to wear her special PJs. When she pounds her chest and hoots, the big gorilla begins to dance and the whole class joins in, even Mr. Todd.

New York Times bestselling author Barbara Bottner provides a charming, playful story, and Michael Emberley’s lively drawings perfectly capture the bright spirit of a little girl who knows her own mind. Priscilla Gorilla will get readers on their feet, dancing to their own beat.

Billie B. Little is the Founding Director of Discovery Center at Murfree Spring, a hands-on museum in Murfreesboro, Tennessee.

Stephanie Graegin’s new wordless picture book, Little Fox in the Forest, is the enchanting story of a young girl and the stuffed fox she brings to class for show-and-tell. The absence of text adds to the magical atmosphere of the tale, which Graegin, working with a subdued palette of grays and blues, presents in panels, in the manner of a comic book.

During a break on the playground at school, the girl leaves her treasured toy unattended. Meanwhile, a fox (the real thing!) peeks out of the bushes, his vivid orange coat contrasting with the book’s muted background. He nabs the fox and dashes away, the girl in hot pursuit behind him.

With the help of a boy from school, the girl tracks the fox into the woods. When the two classmates discover a magical village among the trees, Graegin’s illustrations bloom into full color. The bright, bustling little town is inhabited by animals of every stripe—including the fox. But will the travelers be able to find him?

From opening endpapers that feature a bookshelf loaded with fabulous toys and titles like Mystery in the Woods to the fully realized town tucked away in the forest, Graegin’s book is filled with surprises. It’s a thrilling adventure that youngsters will love, and a story that gets richer with every perusal. No words necessary.

The words tell one story and the pictures another in this charming tale from master picture book creator Jon Agee.

The story is told from the first-person point of view of a boy astronaut, who has traveled to Mars in his spaceship to find life. In his hand is a gift with a pretty red bow, which we learn are chocolate cupcakes. Just after he begins his trek and tells readers that everyone doubts he’ll find life on Mars, we see a wordless spread in which an alien creature—tall, rust-colored, googly-eyed and pointy-eared—pops his head out of a crater.

The boy continues to talk to the reader (or perhaps out loud to himself), losing faith all the while. He sees no life on Mars—though this large Martian follows him and reacts to the boy’s running commentary. Agee draws the Martian rather large and pear-shaped, making it look downright huggable and often vulnerable. The Martian is truly baffled by the boy’s pretty awful grasp of the obvious. Eventually, the Martian picks up the gift the boy hopelessly drops as he heads back to look for his spaceship. On his way, the boy spots a bright yellow flower and is relieved and elated to have discovered life after all. He retrieves his box, crawls across the Martian itself (thinking it’s a mountain) and heads back to Earth. Feeling like he deserves a treat, he opens his box of cupcakes while in his spaceship to discover . . . crumbs.

Child readers will thrill in being one-up on the protagonist in this tale, which is also a wonderful read-aloud. Cue the laughter of young children when they see the reactions of the Martian behind the boy. “Mars looks pretty gloomy,” the boy says, as the friendly Martian frowns, hands on hips. The final page, wherein the boy discovers that, indeed, there was more life on Mars—and more than just a plant—is a moment funny and tragic, all at once. (And quick! Grab the elementary students learning about inferencing, because that moment is inferencing gold.)

Out of this world.

Julie Danielson features authors and illustrators at Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast, a children’s literature blog.